The first time they had held hands, it was when they walked around the marketplace of a planet Clara couldn't even pronounce. To her, it sounded like a string of beautiful syllables. He had tentatively took her hand in his and smiled shyly to her. It was certainly a change; though it was a change she was willing to welcome. It felt like a familiar gesture, but she brushed it off as her mind thinking of his past incarnation when he would hold her hand.

They held hands all throughout the entire adventure, except several few times when the Doctor needed both for miscellaneous reasons. She watched him carefully, as he seemed to hold her hand regardless, as if it was on instinct. She didn't complain or ask, worried he'd retreat back to his shell and keep his hands to himself. She'd just have to ask another time.

The second time he did, it had been in front of Kate, at UNIT. Something about Zygons and the Doctor had chosen to hold her hand throughout most of the adventure, except for some moments when they had gotten separated. Every time they had returned to each other, the Doctor held onto her hand even tighter, but not enough for the blood flow to stop, as though he's had many months of practice. He had finally let go when the saving was done, walking into the TARDIS. Clara was about to follow when Kate had called her.

"Clara?" Her hand was already on the handle, but she looked back. "He's really clingy this time around, isn't he? As though he's...ah, never mind. It's really nice to see you, Clara." Kate said and Clara merely shrugged.

"Likewise. We've evolved from running together to running together while holding hands, it's a lot of improvement. Still working on hugging, though." Clara smiled, "I'm not sure why, but I'm just glad he is." And with that, she left Kate to clean up the last bits of the mess from the Zygon problem.

The third time he chose to grasp her hand and hardly let go was on a planet of mixed alien and human relations, where they had saved the planet from political destruction; the Doctor demonstrating excellent political prowess.

Even as he argued against the officials of the planet, he held her hand and kept her close, as though everyone in the room was a threat to her. It was becoming slightly concerning now, as Clara was really not used to it. He was Mr. I'm-Not-A-Hugging-Person and Mr. Clara-I'm-Not-Your-Boyfriend. She loved it and all, but if something was wrong with him, she wanted to know.

She sat atop a stair and looked at him, elbow propped on her thigh, her head resting on her hand. She watched him walk around the console, flipping switches, punching in coordinates, all the sort. She clenched and unclenched her other hand, as she wasn't used to the lack of contact now. The lingering feel of warmth that came from her palm felt comforting, almost. She decided to ask him, as she wasn't sure when she'd get the next chance, or if he'd continue on.

"Doctor, what was that all about?"

"What? The political thing? I might actually have quite the knack for politics; perhaps I should retire and become a politician. What could I call myself?"

"You'd be a horrid politician." Clara deadpanned and was about to continue on with what she was going on about when he continued on.

"Clara, this is serious. I've already got the Oncoming Storm and many others under my belt, but what else?" He mused. Clara stared at him, an eyebrow raised.

"You could be like the Dark Lord of Downing Street, but instead, the Dark Lord of Time and Space." Clara giggled, letting the thought out before she even considered it, "Like Malcom Tucker."

"I've met the man before. He's quite the loudmouth." The Doctor smirked, looking to her. "He curses like a sailor and is essentially married to his job. What a nutcase." Clara let out a laugh, but she was reminded again of what her original question was. She couldn't just beat around the bush about it, it was playing with her feelings and she wanted answers.

"Doctor, I'm serious. What was that about?"

"You're going to have to be a little more specific than that." He leaned against the console, arms crossed as he faced her.

"The hand holding! The thing you've been doing for the past two days, including today." She felt like she was being analyzed, but she held her ground. After what felt like ages of silence besides the TARDIS' low hum, the Doctor sighed.

"I'm doing an experiment." He finally said, avoiding her gaze at all costs.

"Sorry?"

"A hand holding experiment." He added, but it wasn't really much of an explanation. He saw her confused look and continued, "I just was trying to see how you'd react to it." So there was no real reasoning as to why he even did it. An experiment. Just an experiment, nothing more, nothing less. She cursed herself in considering there would be anything more to it, as she was really just keeping her hopes up.

"I see." She managed to say without slipping any hint of her feelings out. The Doctor resumed to his maneuvering of the TARDIS, clearly oblivious, as usual. She sighed, looking down to the TARDIS silver floors. She shouldn't have expected much.

He chose to hold her hand again regardless of his revelation that it was just an experiment during one particular festival on this planet of Lyra. It was one of those moments where there was no running nor danger involved; soft musical tones were being created from the planet's inhabitants and in general it was just lovely, not to mention familiar. She reasoned that after all her exploring of the universe, she was bound to hear it at least once. The Doctor explained that they could make all the beautiful noises they'd like due to their years of conditioning, as music was greatly loved in the planet. They weren't running, nor were they in danger. He just held her hand as if it was a natural thing. It felt natural and felt normal. As though it had been done many times before. It was unnerving, but she ignored the twisted feeling.

A few more minutes went by and the song ended. Clara was about to raise her hands to clap for the lovely singers, but her hand was still intertwined with the Doctor's. She planned to let go, but the Doctor made a comment.

"Your heart isn't accelerating as much as it used to." He noted and Clara peered up to him, slightly confused.

"What do you mean?" She inquired. The other aliens were clapping around them, but she could still hear the Doctor loud and clear. He looked back to her, with an unreadable expression.

"When I used to hold your hand, I could feel your heart rate accelerate. This time, I don't feel it. Why not?" Clara didn't have a response to that. She had been trying to shut herself and her feelings down; to avoid any sort of problems and issues with the Doctor. "Your eyes are doing the thing again."

"The sad smile one?" The Doctor nodded, "Don't worry about it. I'm just malfunctioning."

"You do know I say that as a joke, right? I know you're not malfunctioning." He admitted. What was with him being so shy?

"Some cruddy joke then." She felt her body try to force a laugh out, but it only turned to a funny sound in her throat. "It's nothing, I swear."

"Clara..." He muttered her name and she attempted to jerk her hand away from his grasp, with surprising difficulty. He clamped on tight, as though she was the last thing in the universe he could have possession of.

"I don't want to talk about it." As well as the fact that she didn't want to make a scene. The singing was over and people were walking around the market, but that didn't mean nobody was listening.

"Now you're just being ridiculous. Did something happen on Earth? Did you get hurt? Did..." He paused, then spoke quietly, "Did I do something?"

"I don't know Doctor, did you do something?" She said it aggressively and the Doctor shrunk slightly at her response. She had expected a brasher response, rather than something so...shy coming from him. It surprised her and she raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe...? I'm not good at this."

"Doctor, are you alright? Have you contracted some sort of alien flu?"

"A flu?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"You're never honest with me. Not like this. Isn't it the whole...you know, rule one, the Doctor lies? A lot?" He shifted from side to side, looking around the market before finally landing his eyes back to hers.

"Often by omission." He justified, before sighing heavily and looking down at their joined hands. "This really is an experiment and I had tested to see your reaction, yes, but I left out a lot."

"Do tell! Certainly because it's an experiment makes it alright to lead my feelings on!" The marketplace seemed to just disappear, only the two of them in each other's gaze. Clara felt the habit of fidgeting with her ring rise, but she quieted it down. Besides, how could she with the Doctor's iron grip on her hand?

"I wanted to see if you were alright with it, the whole holding hands thing."

"Doctor, you resist my hugs. Why wouldn't holding hands be alright?"

"This body isn't particularly keen with hugging. Holding hands is alright, I think." He explained and raised up their bonded hands. "Are you alright with this?"

"Yeah." She breathed, but the Doctor didn't seem convinced, so she tightened her grip on his hand to give him satisfaction, a familiar gesture that she didn't remember doing before. She felt a wave of deja vu hit her, as though they've had this exact conversation. "Have we had this conversation before?"

"Huh?"

"This. You and I. It always feel so familiar when we hold hands. What's going on?"

"No." He said it a little too quickly and Clara knew something was wrong. He looked away, breaking their intimate moment.

"Doctor." She prodded, "Tell me."

"I'm sorry Clara. I messed up something in the experiment." He muttered, letting her hand go reaching to her head, heading to her temples. Before she could protest, she fell into a deep unconsciousness and fell into the Doctor's arms. "Experiment twenty-seven failed...oh Clara." He lifted her up and ignored the looks of judgement that came from the alien inhabitants. He walked back to his ship, the TARDIS chiding his behavior, but he had no response. He'd have to try again.

Two of the inhabitants of the planet that had seen the companion and timelord several experiments ago looked at each other. One of them said, "Poor timelord."

"He always seems to hit a dead end."

"Why can't he be honest? When she forgets, nothing changes. She will realize it before he makes her forget at some point."

"He seems to be unable to tell her how he feels." The second one sighed.

"His experiments are going nowhere. He should just go for it. She does love him. Did you see the look in her eyes? It hasn't changed, no matter how many times he made her forget."

"Yes, I did. She does love him indeed."

"Poor timelord." The first one said.

"Poor timelord." The second agreed.